Agéd P is Alice, our 14-year-old Lab mix. She’s named after the protagonist of Wilderness. I’ve raised her from a 5-week-old pup. Her mother was struck by a car in Oregon Hill (of Cowboy Junkies fame) days before I got her. The father, “a shepherd/collie mix,” who lived a leashless life, likely sired many, but none as smart or sweet-dispositioned as Alice, I’m sure. Her health and zest for life are intact as she approaches 100 in dog years, though arthritis has her moving more slowly and meditatively from one sniff to the next. I’ve tried to emulate some of the Tai Chi practitioners I’ve seen in the park so that I can elegantly match her glacial pace, but it doesn’t always work, and by the time we’re done, my back aches too. I figure she’s teaching me about growing old.  The world is  a museum filled with rich experiences like the subtle layers of piss on monkey grass, but the museum floors seem to get harder every day.